Harry Potter and the Open Door
by Eta Patil
Summary: The fate of the Wizarding World rests on one sixteen year old boy's shoulders.
1. Into the Night

Into the Night

It was a dark evening in Privet Drive as the Dursley Family finished their dinner. They talked of trivial things, like the weather, or what was on the television. Mr. Dursley bores them all with his story of what had happened at work that day, ("Mr. Rensuckle never gets the orders right! I say, 25 drills, he only orders 5. I need to fire him."). While Mrs. Dursley fills them all in on the latest news of the neighborhood, ("Did you see the Jones's new car? You'd think that with Mr. Jones being a lawyer they could afford something better than a minivan. Honestly!") As he tries to adjust his chair to he can see the television, their son Dudley whips down his 3rd piece of pie. All seem content, that is, except for the skinny boy at the end of the table.

Usually Harry Potter would be content with the Dursleys ignoring him. But not many things contented him anymore. Perhaps it was the fact that he hadn't spoken to anyone of his friends all summer, even though they promised they would write. Possibly it was that he hadn't received his O.W.L.'s scores yet, and the mounting fear that he wouldn't get the grades he needed to become an auror was incredibly high. Or maybe it was the fact he had to save the world.

Harry readjusted his glasses. He had not told anyone about the Prophecy, partly because telling someone would make it real, official, and partly because he didn't know what to say. What could he? He imagined writing to his best friend Ron Weasley:

_Dear Ron, _he thought.

_How are you? How's your summer been? Hey, you know that prophecy that we thought was smashed? Well, it turns out that Trellawney was the one who predicted it, and Dumbledore was the one who heard it, so he showed me it in his pensieve and it turns out I have to kill Voldemort or Voldemort has to kill me in order the end the war. Hope you're well!_

_Harry._

He snorted. If only it were that easy. He thought of writing to his other best friend Hermione Granger:

_Dear Hermione,_

_How have you been? Did you get your O.W.L results yet? I was just wondering whether or not you had a book on how to kill extremely powerful wizards. See, the sphere in the Department of Mysteries wasn't the only record of that prophecy. Dumbledore was the one it was told to. Basically I have to kill Voldemort, to save the world, so if you have a book I could borrow that would be great. Thanks, see you at school!_

_Harry. _

Harry downright laughed. The thought of telling his friends in a letter was so absurd it was quite funny. But the laughter died down as he realized he was going to have to tell them... in person. Ignoring his Aunt Petunia's protests about not clearing the table, Harry left the kitchen and climbed the stairs to his room. He flopped onto his bed and stared at the ceiling.

"All this would be easier if Sirius was here," he thought, a small lump rising in his throat. "No," said another voice in his head. "Don't do that. He's not here and you'll just have to get used to it." Guilt bubbled in his throat and mixed with the terror in his stomach.

"How am I going to do this?" He asked the ceiling. "How am I possibly going to manage this?"

"With a little help of course."

Harry gave a shout and fell off the bed. His forehead made contact with something hard, and, realizing it was a shoe, Harry looked up. Standing over him, was Professor Lupin.

"Hi Harry," said Lupin, smiling. "You alright?"

"Yeah," Harry answered, taking the hand Lupin offered him. "I think, wait- what- is there reason-why are you here?" he asked, suddenly realizing that members of the Order of the Phoenix didn't show up in his bedroom everyday. "Is everyone ok? Has there been an attack?"

"Oh no, nothing so extreme." Said Lupin. When Harry's worried expression didn't change, he gave a sigh. "Have a seat, Harry."

As they both sat on the bed, Lupin turned to Harry. "First off, happy birthday."

Harry glanced at the clock. 12:01 AM. Harry knew it was late, but he didn't realize he could stare at a ceiling for 3 hours. But then again, he got lost in thought quite a bit now...

"Harry? Hello?" Lupin was waving a hand in front of his face.

"What? Oh, sorry," Harry said sheepishly. "So, does the order have any idea what Voldemort's plans are? Any clue, at all?" He asked, giving a voice to his growing concern that had developed over the last few months.

Lupin gave another sigh and stared out at the wall. "Well Harry, it seems Voldemort is laying low... for now. And of course that's got everyone in the wizarding world in frenzy. Think were with-holding information from them. Look, I'll tell you more later but we really have to get going." Harry stared blankly. "Going?"

A slow, brilliant smile crept upon Lupin's face. "Time to go home, Harry."


	2. Back to the BurrowAgain

A/N: Hello All! All right, here's chapter 2. But before you start reading I gotta make a personal request. If you like this story, or even if you don't ;) could ya please review? I could do with some!!! Constructive criticism is always welcome. Ok, here we go-

Back to the Burrow...Again

Harry gathered all of his possessions, smiling widely. Back to the wizarding world. Lupin was right, it was home. And not only was he going into the wizarding world, but to the Burrow. Not to Grimmauld Place, which he didn't think he could bare. Not to Hogwarts, where he would most certainly have to face Professor Dumbledore, which he most certainly couldn't do. Not yet, anyway. "How are you, Harry?" Asked Lupin quietly, shaking Harry out of his stupor. "I mean really." Harry looked at Lupin. His old face looked tired, weary, and full of concern. And though it was out of the blue, Harry realised he would be getting this question alot. "I'm fine," he lied.

Lupin stared at him for a moment, then sighed. "All right. Just remember Harry, I'm here if you need me." "I know," Harry said. "Thanks."There was a moment of awkward silence before Lupin said, "Ready?" Harry glanced around for forgotten items. "Yep. How are we getting there? Brooms? because you know I never got mine back," he said slightly bitterly, as his former Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, _Professor _Umbridge, had banned him from playing Quidditch ever again and taken his prized firebolt. "Yes I heard about that," said Professor Lupin, who for some reason was grinning broadly. "I- anyway, no, we're going to floo there. Mrs. Figg was kind enough to let us use her fireplace. So if you have everything, let's go!"

They crept quietly down the stairs, careful to avoid the last step (which had a tendency to creak) with Harry's belongings (including a very wary Hedwig) trailing behind them as they headed out the front door. "Wait," Lupin whispered as Harry made to shut the door. He pulled out an envelope. "Can't just steal you away without explaining to your relatives."

"Oh, they'd probably think a miracle occurred and run screaming through London that there was a God." Lupin smiled. "Yes, well, I think a letter letting them know that you're safe and you'll see them next summer is only fair."

"Yes, give them a whole year to get over their disappointment." Said Harry lightly. Laughing, Lupin disappeared into the house. Remerging a minute later, he waved his wand and all Harry's possessions were up in the air again. Hedwig gave a disgruntled hoot and flapped her wings.

_She hasn't been out in ages, _thought Harry. "Sorry Hedwig," he whispered, petting her between the bars of her cage. "We can't let you out just yet." He turned to Lupin. "I suppose it's safe to let her out at the Burrow?" Lupin's mouth twitched at the formality of the question. "I suppose," he answered. "Now we really must be going."

They walked silently down Privet Drive, Harry's things following behind them invisibly. Harry, who hadn't been out of the house all summer, had forgotten what fresh air felt like. He watched the trees billow and bend in the wind as they walked. He saw their branches create shadows on the concrete. The only noise he heard was their rustling. They turned a corner onto Magnolia Crescent. Harry Froze. The peaceful feeling he felt a mere second ago was gone, replaced now with feeling of cold hard dread. He was standing right where he had three years ago, the exact same spot where he had first seen Sirius. Harry couldn't breathe. Lupin must have noticed something was wrong, because he asked in a panicked voice, "Harry, are you all right?"

Harry nodded numbly. "I- I thought I saw something. I was wrong," he added hurriedly as Lupin looked wildly around, his wand in his raised hand.

Lupin sighed. "Just as well, we're-"

"You're here!" shrieked a voice. Harry turned in time to see Mrs. Figg running toward them in her carpet slippers, followed closely by quite a few cats.

"Hello, Arabella," Lupin smiled, taking Mrs. Figg's hands. "How've you been?""Fine Remus, just fine. Where is- You!" Harry jumped. Mrs. Figg yanked her hands out of Lupin's and strided over to Harry. "You, boy, how are your relatives treating you? Not keeping you locked up, are they? Because I haven't seen you all summer, and besides the _friendly_ small talk I've had with your aunt, no one's spoken of you," she said fiercely.

"I'm fine," Harry said, wondering why he insisted on telling people this. "They've basically ignored me all summer, so we've gotten along quite well."

Mrs. Figg looked at him, as Lupin smirked. "Good. Well, let's go inside. Remus," she said as they followed her in. "You do have floo powder, don't you? Mungdungus has used the last of my, the brute." Lupin smiled softly. "Yes, I thought of that. I've brought just enough." They entered the living room, which was full of a surprising amount of cats. "Thanks again for doing this, Arabella," Lupin said. "Think nothing of it Remus. Oh, Dumbledore wanted to me to give you this," said Mrs. Figg, pulling a small envelope out of her bathrobe. "Said it was urgent."

Lupin opened the letter and scanned it quickly, his face darkening with every line he read. "Right," he said finally. "Well Harry, are you ready? You go first."

Harry nodded. Lupin reached in his pocket and held out a red velvet bag. Opening it, Harry scooped a fair amount of floo dust out and threw it in the fire. As the flames turned green, Harry thanked Mrs. Figg and pulled Mr. Tibbles away from the fire. "See you there," Harry smiled to Lupin. "The Burrow!" He held his breath and tried not to inhale soot. Slowly opened his eyes and saw a million different fire places swirling around him. As the swirling got faster, he held onto his glasses and closed his eyes tight- he was about to be sick. The swirling got faster and faster and all to suddenly-it stopped.

Harry landed with a thud in front of the Weasley's fire. He looked up and was surprised to see no one there. "Hello?" he called. No answer. "Mrs. Weasley? Ron? Hermione?" Harry began to feel apprehensive. Had something happened to them? The Burrow was never empty. Had it not been Professor Lupin at all, only someone impersonating him? An ice cube dropped in his stomach. He slowly stood up and looked around the kitchen. _How stupid could I have been to not even confirm if it was really Professor Lupin? What have I gotten myself into now? _He slowly rounded the corner to the living room, and pulled his wand from his pocket. It was completely dark. _Lumos,_ he whispered.

"SURPRISE!"

Harry jumped out of his skin. He may of shouted, he wasn't sure. All he knew was the lights turned on he was standing in a room full of people, a big banner over head that said _Happy Birthday Harry! _in blinking red and gold letters. Ron and Hermione were the closest to him. He gaped at them, dazed, and asked, "Wha- what is this?"

Hermione laughed lightly. "Happy birthday Harry! We figured that since we were actually going to be with you on your birthday, we'd throw you a party!"

"A- a party? For me?" Harry asked. "Well, what do I do?" It was Ron's turn to laugh. "You enjoy it, mate! C'mon, mum made a cake, but she won't let us touch it 'till you've had some." he said, rubbing his stomach.

Hermione scowled. "Is that all you can think about Ron, Food? When we haven't seen Harry all summer?"

"Well excuse me! I'm growing, Hermione, I need food. And besides, Harry understands, don't you Harry?" Ron asked.

"Yea sure," mumbled Harry, who wasn't paying attention to what Ron was saying. He looked around the room at everyone else as they talked and ate. He saw Fred and George Weasley talking to their older brother Bill, while their other brother Charlie Weasley spoke to their father, Mr. Weasley. Mrs. Weasley was holding a plate full of food, and Harry had a sneaking suspicion it was for him. The only person missing, he realised, was Ron's younger sister.

"Ron," Harry asked, cutting off Hermione's next remark. "Where's Ginny?"

"Well, it is one in the morning, Harry," Ron said. "She tried to wait up for you, but when she fell asleep on the stairs, mum made her go to bed. So how about that cake?" he asked hopefully.

"Harry dear!" a voice shouted. He turned to see Mrs. Weasley beckoning him to the table. Sure enough, the plate full of food was right in front of her, towering above anyone else's plates.

"Hi, Mrs. Weasley," he said smiling as he walked towards the table.

"Hello Harry dear. I'm so glad you could come, we've missed you." she whispered as she enveloped him into a hug.

"Thanks...for all of this," he said, a lump rising in his throat.

"Well, Harry, we weren't about to leave you with your _relatives _all summer," she said, her mouth turning into a thin line. Mrs. Weasley had never been fond of the Dursleys. "Now eat, Harry, you're as skinny as a rail!"

And he did. He was just finishing his chicken when Ron, who apparently had given up waiting for Harry, came over, pushed the cake in front of him and handed him a knife. "Cut," he demanded. Laughing, Harry took the knife and cut a piece for Ron and himself. As Charlie and Bill came over to wish Harry happy birthday, Hermione took over the cutting. Harry was just about to see if Mrs. Weasley needed any help when Mr. Weasley came over and shook his hand.

"Happy birthday Harry," he said. "How are you doing?"

Harry's happy feeling slipped a bit. "I'm doing fine Mr. Weasley," he said. "Now that I think of it, I actually wanted to ask you something."

"Anything Harry," said Mr. Weasley, though he looked apprehensive.

"I was just wondering... has the ministry figured out how Voldemort- sorry," he said hastily as Mr. Weasley winced. "How you-know-who got into the department of mysteries?"

"Well, no, but it's not like they're trying very hard. Fudge doesn't want to let on that they've been wrong about everything, so he's taking things very cautiously." Mr. Weasley answered slowly. "Now- Remus!"

Harry whipped around. Sure enough, there was Lupin, standing amongst all of Harry's things, Hedwig on his shoulder.

"What took you?" Harry asked, stepping over his trunk to get to Lupin.

"Oh, Mrs. Figg needed help with something," He answered. "she's getting too old for all those cats. Anyway I really must be going, I just...wanted to give you this," he said quietly and reached in his old, tattered brief case. He looked around, as if to see if anyone was watching, and handed Harry what looked like a very old book. "This is for you. Just, wait until you're upstairs to open it all right?"

"All right," Harry reassured him, puzzled.

"Happy birthday Harry. Take care of yourself." Lupin gripped his shoulder briefly before handing off Hedwig.

"I'll see you," Harry said, shaking Lupin's hand.

"Yes, you'll see me sooner than you think. I can't say anymore just yet," said Lupin. He winked and with a quiet _pop_! He was gone.

Harry looked at the book's cover. There was writing on it. _Memories,_ it said. Excitement exploded his stomach. _Pictures, _he thought. _Of mum and dad, maybe? Or of Sirius? _

Just as he was contemplating running upstairs to have a look, Ron came up behind him. "Hey," he said. "Need some help taking your stuff up?"

"Yea," Harry said. Ron grabbed his trunk as Harry picked up Hedwig's cage. Harry hadn't noticed how tall Ron had become over the summer, but as Ron lugged his trunk to the stairs, Harry realised Ron was now almost a foot taller than him.

"Where are you going?" Asked Hermione as she ran over to them.

"Just dropping Harry's stuff off. Have you brought your things up yet?" Ron asked as they climbed the stairs.

"Oh no- I completely forgot," Hermione laughed. Harry had never seen Hermione so happy about forgetting something. She, too, had also grown over the summer. She had tanned and her brown eyes shown from under her extremely bushy hair. Harry noticed she skipped down the stairs for her trunk. They reached the landing and waited.

"It's good to see you Harry," said Ron seriously, and Harry recognised how mature he seemed just then.

"Good to see you too Ron," Harry said, the corners of his mouth twitching. It was always strange to see Ron so solemn.

"Alright," panted Hermione as she came up the stairs. "Harry can you grab the other side of my trunk? I think it's slip-ARGH!" Hermione shouted and almost toppled backwards on her now open trunk. Fred and George Weasley had just apparated on the step in front of her.

"Whoa there Hermione," George said as he grabbed her arm. "I don't think mum would be too pleased if you broke your neck on Harry's birthday."

"Speaking of which," Fred turned to Harry, one hand holding Hermione's trunk. "we never got to wish you happy birthday." He stuck out a hand solemnly. "Happy birthday Harry." Harry, who had only too much experience with Fred and George's tricks, stared at Fred's hand. It seemed Ok, no offending objects or shapes on it.

"Thanks," said Harry suspiciously, carefully shaking Fred's hand. It happened so fast. A tingling sensation made it's way up his arm and to his head. Harry looked at himself. He looked exactly the same...except he was orange. "What'd you do, Fred?" Harry gaped as Fred, George, and Ron roared with laughter.

"Mood rings!" Fred said happily, holding up his hand. Harry noticed now a thin gold ring on Fred's finger. "Who's ever hand you shake change colour with their mood. Orange is puzzled- oh red is ang-ER!" he shouted as Harry shoved him. Fred landed on the floor, laughing harder than ever. George and Ron were barely standing they were laughing so hard. Hermione was even chuckling a bit as she picked up everything that had spilled out of her trunk. Harry began to smile and suddenly all five of them were gasping for air. Harry had now turned purple.

"What's going on here?" Came Mrs. Weasley's voice. Everyone stopped laughing. "Keep your voices down, you'll wake Ginny!"

"Yea right," George whispered as they climbed the rest of the stairs. "Ginny could sleep through the Hogwarts express running through her room." They reached the twin's room.

"This is where we leave you," Fred said in a mock serious tone. "Night all." And with that, he and George dropped Hermione's trunk, saluted, and disapparated into their bedroom.

Hermione scowled. "Honestly, can't they open a door?"

"We could," came George's voice. "But why take the time?"

The three of them smiled as they reached Ron's room. Harry opened the door and was greeted by an over-excited Pig.

"Pig, wait, leave my glasses alone," Harry mumbled as Pig nibbled at his glasses lens. He put down Hedwig's cage next to his trunk and pulled out the book Lupin gave him.

"Wanna play some chess before bed, Harry?" Ron asked as he pulled on a maroon jumper. "I saw mum had a fire going as we came up stairs."

"Uh, you guys go ahead, I'll be down in a minute."

"You all right Harry?" Hermione asked, concerned.

"I'm fine, I just wanna unpack a little."

"All right," Ron said, picking up Hermione's trunk. "C'mon Hermione," he added pointedly as she opened her mouth to protest. As they left, Harry could hear Hermione down the hall saying, "You don't have to carry my trunk Ron, honestly I can do it my..." She giggled. Harry wondered what that was all about as he held the book on his lap. _Here we go._ As he opened the first page, a small note fell out.

_Harry-_

_I know what happened to him was horrible. Believe me, I know better than anyone what you're going through. He was my best friend. I found this while I was cleaning the attic at Grimmauld place. I thought you might like it. _

_Lupin_

There was no need to ask who "he" was. Sirius. Harry took a deep breath and turned the page. And there they all were- Lupin, Sirius, Peter and James- Harry's dad, all smiling up at him. Sirius looked as if he was thinking about something distant, a kind of handsome, far away look on his face. Lupin smiled lightly, but he looked tired. _Perhaps a full moon was approaching? _Peter looked as he always did- peckish and nervous. James looked windblown and happy, and Harry realised why. Standing behind him, her face popping up from behind James's shoulder like peek-a-boo, was Lily Evans, Harry's mother. Harry smiled. They all looked about his age, maybe older. He was about to turn the page when a small voice whispered, "Not Harry." He looked up. "Hello?" he called.

"Please not Harry!" was his answer. Harry stood up and opened Ron's door. "Not Harry! Oh please, please! Watch out, behind you!" Harry swung violently around. There was nothing there. The voice whimpered, and Harry realised where it was coming from- Ginny's room. Harry froze. What should he do? Wake her, or go get Ron? _No, _he thought. _she'd be so embarrassed to wake up to an audience. _He slowly opened the door to her room and saw Ginny thrashing violently, tangled in her bed sheets.

"Ginny," he said, trying not to get hit by one of her legs. "Wake up Ginny."

"Not Harry! Please don't hurt him!" Ginny cried as Harry grabbed her arm.

"Ginny! Wake up, you're having a nightmare!" Harry shouted.

"No! Harry, he's coming for you! Oh please don't hurt him, please! No Tom!" Harry stopped gripping her arm. His heart sank. She was having nightmares about Tom Riddle.


	3. Shocking Discoveries

Sweet Dreams

A/N: Poor Ginny! let's see what happens children stare unblinkingly at Tv screen

"Ginny, Wake up," Harry said quietly. "You're having a nightmare, it's only a nightmare!"

Ginny stopped moving. She was whimpering quietly as she opened her eyes, tears streaked her face. "Harry?" she whispered. "I- oh, I can't believe it," she groaned as she sat up in her bed. "You must think I'm so- ugh!" she put her face in her hands.

"I don't think you're ugh Ginny, how dare you say such a thing."

"Shut up," she huffed at him, but Harry saw her smiling a small bit. He had never realised she looked like Ron so much. _But not really, _he argued himself. _She has a different face- softer, and her eyes are brown, not blue. A chocolate brown. And her hair is a kind of maroon red, not orange like her brothers..._

"Harry, what is it? Do I have something on my face?" Ginny asked, touching her cheek.

"No," Harry mumbled, embarrassed. He had turned pink. "I- I thought... I was just thinking. I do that alot now."

"What, space out?" Ginny asked, sitting on her knees so she was almost eye level.

"Yea. I guess that's what happens when you spend the summer alone.""Yes that's right! How was your summer?"

"It was...interesting. The Dursley's really took to heart Mad-eye's warning. They left me alone all summer. How was yours?"

"Mine was fine. Ron and I spent alot of time together, and Luna came over, she lives nearby, and... Dean broke up with me."

"What?" Harry asked, surprised. "Why?"

"I don't know, he was quite vague. Here," she stood up and went to a small desk in the corner of her room. Her long braided hair hung over her white night dress. "Here," she repeated. "Have a look."

Harry felt a little strange about reading someone's personal mail, but curiosity took over.

_Dear Ginny, _he read.

_How's your summer been? Mine's been ok, the ministry's set up special wards at my house, you know, because I'm muggle born, so so much for keeping you-know-who a secret. _

_Listen, I didn't write you to let you know how I'm doing. I need to tell you something, and you're not going to like it Gin, you're probably going to hate me for it, but there you go. I think we should see other people. It's not like we've gotten together over the summer or anything, so really we weren't even... "together". It's just that... well, I need some time for myself, not that you're asking too much of me, but I'm just weird right now. I should think you'd like to date someone in your own grade, maybe. You've got O.W.L.s this year anyway, so I'd never see you. I'm sorry, Ginny, I really am, but you'll get over it, it's me I think that'll have a hard time. I hope we can still be friends._

_Dean._

Harry looked up. "We'll, that's... really stupid." he said. And he meant it.

Ginny smiled. "I know. But it's alright, he's probably thinking of dating Lavender and didn't know how to tell me."

"Lavender Brown?" Ginny nodded. "Why would he want to date her?"

Ginny looked in his eyes, searching for something. It kinda creeped him out, she seemed to stare for an eternity. "Well, she lives by him, and they always hang out. Everybody thought they were dating till he asked me out. And... she's pretty." She looked at her hands.

"Well, you're pretty."

Ginny looked at him again, a twinkle in her eyes. Red locks of hair had fallen around her face, and the moonlight was illuminating her many freckles. _She really is pretty, _Harry thought. _Stop! It's only Ginny. What are you thinking?_

"Harry?" Ginny asked tentatively. "Spacing out again?"

"Wha- oh, yea," Harry said, relieved.

"Anyway...how was your party? Mum made me go to bed." she made a face.

"Yea, I heard about that. It was nice. We had dinner and cake, and Fred and George turned me into a rainbow."

She squealed. "Mood rings! Their new product. I was the one who pitched it to them you know."

"Oh, then I guess I have you to thank for me turning...what's blue mean?" He asked, looking at his hand.

"Blue means relieved." she smiled. "Were you afraid I was going to kick you in the face?"

"For a minute there." Harry answered. There was an awkward silence for a moment before Ginny asked, "What's that Harry?"

Harry realised he was still holding the album. "It's Lupin's birthday present. Pictures, of my mum and dad and...Sirius."

Ginny looked at him with her chocolate brown eyes. It was so strange, she didn't say anything but Harry got the feeling she understood what he was feeling. Perhaps the fact that he was turning indigo helped.

"Harry, I'm so sorry. I mean- I miss him too, alot. he was like a, an uncle to me, you know? But I know it's not like what you're going through. And I just, I'm sorry."

"It's ok," he said. And this time he was telling the truth. "I mean, I'm getting ok with it. Do you want to maybe, have a look?" he asked.

"Oh, really?" She asked "Are you sure?"

"Yea. You showed me the letter, why not?"

"Ok," Ginny said smiling. She smoothed the comforter on her bed and scooted over. Harry sat down next to her, then scooted a little farther away. _It's only Ginny,_ he repeated in his head. "Ok," he said as he opened the album.

"Oh my gosh, he looks just like you!" Ginny gasped as he opened the page of his father and his friends.

"I know."

"Except for your eyes," she said, a small smile on her face. They watched Lily bob up and down behind James. "You have her eyes."

Harry turned the page and Ginny gasped again. "That's you!" she squealed, pointing at the picture. It showed a baby Harry toddling over to Lily, her hands outstretched. He fell. "You're so cute!" she looked up at the real life Harry, and looking like she was bursting to say something. "What happened?" She asked innocently before breaking into giggles.

Harry laughed too. She really was like her brothers. "What are you trying to say, Miss Weasley?" Harry asked in a mock angry voice.

"Nothing, Mr. Potter, nothing at all. I was just- No!" she screamed, as Harry had started tickling her. "Ok, Ok, I'm sorry!"

Harry suddenly realised he was holding Ginny by her sides. He sat up right away, almost chanting _It's only Ginny, It's only Ginny _in his head. Ginny's face had turned red too, and she sat up quickly. "Ginny, I-"

"It's ok," she said quickly. "Um... Are you hungry? I'm sure there's cake leftover, and I never had any."

"You're just like Ron!" Harry exclaimed, laughing. She giggled too as they headed down the staircase.

"Honestly now Harry, I should like to think you can decipher between me and you're best-" Ginny stopped suddenly, her eyes wide. Harry, who was one step behind, ran into her.

"Ginny what's-" but Ginny had flung her hand over his mouth and pointed mutely in front of her.

Harry scanned the living room. Nothing scandalous in it, remnants food and streamers littered the ground, the _Happy Birthday Harry_! banner sagging slightly. A fire was dimly lighting the room, chess pieces were strewn along the floor, a few blankets- and a fast asleep Ron right next to them. Harry smiled at Ginny's shocked face.

"Ginny, it's only Ron, we don't need to be quiet. He can sleep through anything." he assured her as he dragged her hand away from his mouth. But she shook her head furiously and jabbed her finger at Ron's figure again. "Look," she said slowly, grabbing his wrist and pulling him over to Ron. Harry kicked the blankets out of his way and Ginny made an _oomph_ sound. Harry looked at her. "Didn't quite catch that, what'd you say?" he laughed.

"Wasn't me Harry," she whispered, looking at the blankets. Harry looked to and almost jumped in surprise. The "blankets" had moved. And was now resting it's head on Ron's shoulder. Harry realised they weren't blankets at all, just a sheet of very unruly hair. He had just kicked Hermione.


End file.
